Unspoken questions
by TheNoir
Summary: When Batman catches word of a grand auction being held in the local hall, he braces himself for the worst. But just like many times before, the thieves and criminals of Gotham surprise him, and it doesn't turn out quite like he expects.


When the caped crusader heard that a auction house on the east end was going to play host to some of the most prized antiques that Gotham had seen in years, he instantly knew it was going to attract thieves not just from his home city, but the whole world.

For this reason he tried to convince officials to locate it somewhere safer, but they were set on having it in Gotham, saying it was the only place that had a hall large enough to accommodate all of the fine art, jewellery and countless other treasures awaiting a new home.

As the days up until the big event gradually lessened and the pieces began to be moved into the hall, Batman knew he had lost the relocation battle, and resigned to his fate. He agreed to patrol the area until the pieces found there new homes, and in the meantime researched extensively on each item that was going under the hammer, so to understand what his key demographic of burglars would be.

There was a large collection of fine jewellery that would undoubtedly catch Selina's eye, and even a cat broach encrusted with diamonds, which almost guaranteed an attempt by the seductive feline.

An old Chinese puzzle box was up for sale also. It had failed to be opened by its last owner, even after several years of constant attempts, which would no doubt rouse the Riddler's interest.

There were a few more items that he knew would be desirable to a whole demographic of thieves and criminals, such as the plethora of famous paintings and a large lot of antique statues, which would no doubt sell for a pretty penny on the black market.

Apart from that, and him discovering unintentionally that a few of the pieces were being sold by sellers illegally, only one other really caught his interest.

There was a book.

It was old and tattered, but very valuable.

It was an extremely rare first edition of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, with the author stated on its tattered spine of course no other than Lewis Carol himself.

If this didn't attract Jervis Tetch, then Bruce could only conclude that the man was either comatose or dead.

With this knowledge, Batman prepared for the expected encounters with these select rouges, and even a few like the Joker, who would just pop up and surprise Batman for laughs, if nothing else.

But as the day of the auction arrived, and then the eerie stillness that the night brought eventually swept over the deserted hall, it wasn't what he expected.

There was no bowler clad men poking their heads around corners, or shadowy silhouettes of human cats flinging themselves all over the city's skyline. Nor were there any small Hatters with an army of brainwashed minions in tow.

Not even so much as a rebellious teen had attempted to break in that night, or even the next three after that.

And even though he knew he should have been thankful for the surprising lack of criminal activity, it just didn't sit right with him at all.

It wasn't right that no-one had attempted anything, and the whole situation reeked of foul play.

Whatever was keeping his rouges away, he knew it certainly wasn't their consciences.

They were being either bribed, intimidated or had made a deal he didn't know about.

Knowing of the riches they could achieve themselves with this heist, he suspected it was most likely one of the last two.

But if he were to follow his gut on this one, he sensed fear more than any sort of reckoning.

On the fifth night, Batman considered just doing his normal rounds and letting one of his robins do the patrolling instead. But he decided against it, telling himself that because this was the last night that the pieces would sit dormant in the hall, this would be the last chance for any potential burglars.

And once again, Batman's bizarre reasoning turned out to be correct, as currently a slim figure was skulking around the building, clearly searching for a particular piece.

The man he almost instantly identified as Jonathan Crane, but what motive the ex-professor had to be here utterly perplexed the Dark Knight, so he allowed himself to be cloaked in the shadows for a while longer, at least until Jonathan lead him to what he came for.

When he stopped at the vast piles of wrapped up books that had come under the hammer, a small section of the figurative puzzle slipped into place, or at least so the detective initially thought.

Dr Crane may have been known most for his stint a failed lecturer and physiatrist, but he was a lover of literature first and foremost.

As the wiry man sat down began to carefully unwrap each book in search of what he had come for, Bruce too searched his mental catalogue of all the novels that were in that collection, in a an attempt to try and rationalize why he was here.

There were no books on fears or phobias, or else he would have expected a break in from the scarecrow.

There were no stories of the horror genre that would have interested the man, or volumes on the subject of physiology, or even any old nursery rhyme books, that although he knew the professor would deny owning, was a definite guiltily pleasure.

When Batman was snapped out of his thoughts by a slightly too loud '_aha_!' from the professor upon finding 'the one', it wasn't what he expected.

Logically, it made no sense that the Scarecrow would break into the hall to retrieve the book he mentally paired with the Mad Hatter.

But nevertheless, there Jonathan sat, cradling a book clearly titled 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' in his arms, like it was his child.

Perplexed to the point of irritation, Batman stepped out of the shadows, making his presence known to the Scarecrow.

The Scarecrow, most likely expecting Batman to interject eventually, stood up and turned to face him.

"What are you doing here, Crane?" Bruce growled the moment there eyes met, figuring it was best just to get straight to the point.

Jonathan shifted slightly, cradling the book closer to his chest.

"It's none of you business, Batman." He spat back venomously.

"If you're stealing books that don't belong to you, _Crane_, then it will always be my business."

"Well good thing I'm returning it to its rightful owner then."

Batman scoffed.

"Guess what, Scarecrow? For some reason I don't believe you."

"Fine then, I'll prove it"

Hesitantly, Jonathan passed the book to Batman by sliding it across the floor, using its discarded wrapping as a sled.

Batman blocked it with his foot and picked it up, eyeing Crane questioningly.

"Take a look at the first page."

Glaring at the Professor one more time as if to say 'you better not be wasting my time', he opened the book. There was nothing on the page that was special, just the normal formalities that were on every front page.

Seeing that the Dark Knight was struggling, Jonathan piped up again.

"_Oh for God's sake_...There should be a name written in there. It's probably faded."

Turning on detective vision, Bruce set it to pick up any traces of ink on the page.

All of the text on page lit up in a brilliant violet, and then Batman realized that there was some writing that he hadn't been able to pick up with the naked eye. It was a name handwritten in a juvenile cursive, but was definitely not forged.

"This book had belonged to Tetch." Batman grunted in revelation.

"Not 'belonged' batman, it still does." The Scarecrow snapped, closing the gap and attempting to swipe the book back.

Batman recoiled, stepping just out of Jonathan's reach.

"How do I know this book wasn't obtained illegally, and how did it end up in this auction?" Batman spat, still not prepared to give the Scarecrow the benefit of the doubt.

"Well, to answer your first question, he got given that book as an unbirthday present from his mother when he was seven. She spent a whole week's wages on it. She was rather lucky, actually, because if the salesmen had any idea of what that book was really worth, even back then, she would have had to sell her house ten times over just to scrounge up a down payment. So unless you're accusing Jervis's dearest mother, who passed away six years ago I might add, of illegal doings..."

Bruce sighed, feeling slightly guilty. But nevertheless, he kept his emotions under control, knowing that Jonathan was trying to manipulate him.

"I get it, Jonathan. Now enlighten me to how it got here."

"Simple. Some thuggish guard found out the value of the book, and 'confiscated' it. He then got his cousin to sell it for him, and after they would split the profits 30/70."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe a guard figured out the value of this book?"

"I know it seems a stretch Batman, after all, even though I knew it was an early print, I didn't know that that book was a real first edition, I just thought it was Jervis muttering bullshit again." Jonathan sheepishly admitted. "But it's the truth, I promise."

Batman sat unwaveringly, scanning the scarecrows eyes of any signs of untruthfulness. When he found none, he finally spoke again, more hospitable this time.

"...You know this book has another owner now, one who bought it for a very large sum of money."

"I don't give a _shit_, Batman. Give the rich twat who bought this a refund, they don't need it, Tetch _does_."

"What do you mean '_Tetch does'_?"

"Oh, you didn't think I was doing this just as a kind gesture, did you Batman? I did this because he couldn't, mentally or physically. He can barley wipe his own ass right now let alone plot a complex escape from Arkham. He's falling to pieces without this book. Deteriorating by the day. And no, not just any book of Alice' will do, Batman, because it's not about the fucking book, it's this particular novel itself. This book-"

Jonathan snatched the hardback out of the Detectives hands and waggled it in his face, emphasising his point.

"-Is the only connection he has to his life before crime. It's a link to his mother, to _London_, and without he'll die."

Batman stood stoic, finally understanding the gravity of the situation. He knew Jonathan wasn't exaggerating about Jervis's condition, and he could only imagine the small Englishman was in pieces.

By now he had mentally accepted that he would allow this book to wind up back with the Hatter by the end of the night, but in the meantime, there were still had a few more questions he wanted answers to.

"Fine, I'll _think_ about returning the book back to Jervis, but there are still some questions I want answers to. For one, how did you manage to keep everyone away from this hall?"

"It's amazing what you can achieve if you have the right contacts. Falcone owed Tetch and myself a favour, and the rest is history."

Bruce was shocked. Although he was aware that Falcone was attempting to adapt to costumed villains, he had no idea they were actively working together. He felt compelled to ask for specifics, but he knew there was a reason that Crane, although blunt about his relations, was staying vague. If he wanted the full story, he'd have to force it out of the Roman himself.

"Well, is that it?" The scarecrow snapped impatiently, clearly wanting to get the book back to Jervis as soon as possible.

"Yeah, that's all the information I need. I'll figure the rest out by myself."

The scarecrow scoffed. "I don't believe you. You very clearly said you still had some _questions_. That's more than the one you asked, which was a weak one at that."

The detective didn't reply, but the answer in his head was clear.

Sure, Batman had lots of questions right now.

He was curious as to why a man, who was usually so absorbed in his experiments that he will unthinkingly kill anyone who interjected, had gone out of his way to retrieve a book for his cellmate.

Or why, now that he was thinking about it, had their suddenly been and influx of the tea and floral cutlery sets in all of his hideouts, when before it was strictly a coffee and microwaveable meals zone months before.

It didn't add up, and the only reason Batman hadn't delved down too deep into the mystery was because he felt that he wouldn't particularly find the truth pleasant.

But he hadn't wanted to know then, and he still didn't now.

"I do have others, but like I said, I can figure them out by myself. Now, I'm assuming you're willing to hand that book back to Tetch in the asylum, _personally_?"

The scarecrow mumbled vulgarities in displeasure, but hesitantly nodded, knowing what the bat was trying to imply.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll go back to Arkham peacefully, hardly like I have a choice anyway."


End file.
